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| The Geordie, the Gooner & Lobo; Man, chavs be getting beaten in promos | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 3 2005, 06:33 PM (60 Views) | |
| BobPalindrome | Apr 3 2005, 06:33 PM Post #1 |
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[We open in a very lively pub somewhere in the not-so-safe section of London’s East End. It’s very late and the patrons are all very animated, mostly by intoxication. All of them wear similar clothes – polyester shell clothing and baseball caps. Every mouth holds a cigarette and every right hand holds a pint of beer. They speak very loudly in English barely recognizable to the American ear. We move off of them and settle on a booth, where El Lobo is sitting, looking into a stout Guinness before him. He grumbles as he rests his chin in one hand and drums the table with the other. We then hear Lobo’s voice, disembodied, in narration.] Lobo: Seven days. That’s how long until I face Kuriyama. As he combs his hair and dreams up catchphrases with his Harry Potter girlfriend, I’m stuck here training hard and wondering why I haven’t scored a win in my last two matches. I find myself wondering if I’m getting knocked down before I get a chance to stand up. [Lobo lifts the glass and takes a quick gulp. He sneers briefly, exhales and pulls out a cigarette from a pack in his pocket. He lights it with a match that he shakes out and throws over his shoulder.] Lobo: Came out big at Déjà Vu by not letting myself get beat by Kuriyama. Fought him until he didn’t have anything left and took half the title away from him. I did pretty good, but a half-win isn’t the whole enchilada. It’s all for nothing if I can’t settle the question and prove El Lobo is the better wrestler and the bigger star than Bill Kuriyama… [One of the goons from earlier staggers over to where Lobo is sitting, holding the match he had just disposed of. The unpleasant-looking young man gives Lobo a stern and angry look, but if Lobo is intimidated, he isn’t showing it openly.] Geordie: Hey, marra, what’s the muckle idea? Us an' us mates cyem doon heor tuh the boozah tuh pull sum birds an' watch sum television! Why are yee throwin’ matches abyeut? Lobo: Excuse me, foreign vato, but I don’t know what you’re saying. I only speak Spanish and English. Geordie: Ah am speakin’ English, yee radgie! Sa, why d'ya hev that mask on? Is the circus in toon or somethin’? [Just then, another young Brit stalks up, wearing a bright red Arsenal jersey. His hair is done up with entirely too much gel, his teeth are rotten and chances are he hates all other Europeans.] Gooner: Hey, you Geordie sod! Why dane't you piss off, you blazened foohl, and take Alan Sheaaarah with you? He's about as duff as the Italians in ah waaar! Heavens above! Geordie: Yee winnet be laughin' lang, yee southern poof! Newcassel will desecrate yor grev an' run off wi' yor totty an' bairns in a fortneet! Gooner: Aaarsene Wengah is the jiffy coming of Jesus Christ, or didn't you knoh, you shite? I'll headbutt you, kick you inthe groin and down anuhthah Caaarling! Lobo: Actually, amigos, I like Chelsea’s chances this year… [Both of the Brits stare at each other and then begin to laugh loudly.] Gooner: Ah, butchah, the Mexican has some laaargah than normal ideas about foohtball! Why dane't you concern yourself with the jolly little dancing you doh in that ring, dahling? [Lobo shakes his head, extinguishes his smoke and calmly stands up out of his booth.] Lobo: I should’ve known not to expect reason from an Arsenal fan… [He pulls back an arm at horizontal level and lets it spring forward, clocking the Gooner in his face, sending him to the floor. As he hits the ground, the Geordie panics and begins waving his hands in front of himself, begging for clemency.] Geordie: Ah divvint mean tuh myek fun iv yee, marra! Please forgive us! Please divvent dunsh us directly in the face! Lobo: I expected more from you, Geordie. You… [He punches, but stops his fist an inch from the Geordie’s face. The Geordie flinches and squeaks, as if he’s about to squirt his trousers. Lobo smiles and growls softly.] Lobo: …Son of a bitch! Now why don’t you fuck off? [The Geordie nods and complies. He scurries out of scene, leaving Lobo to sit back down at his table and go back to pondering. We hear another narration as he takes another sip of his thick black beer.] Lobo: Shouldn’t have pushed me. Running his mouth. Like Kuriyama. The vato is going down. Is he a comedian? A sex symbol? No one knows, not even him. I do know he is not a quality wrestler. Not quality enough to beat me. I’ve unseated Corona, pushed Johnson to his limits. Now it’s time to close the chapter on Kuriyama. There will be time to reap the profit of my success… [Lobo’s eyes fall down to the ground as he sets his glass down.] Lobo: That's what I want... Right? [As Lobo gets up from his seat and prepares to exit, we fade to black.] |
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7:06 PM Jul 11
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7:06 PM Jul 11